The Wages, An Illustrated Story | 11. Masterstroke | Tied Contest
My week off was waning. Nearly exposing my bad habits by vandalizing my own mirror convinced me it was time to cool it and put a pen to paper.
I tried to warm up for songwriting by doing a film review of the afternoon movie on TV, but I only made a point-by-point hotness contest between Elizabeth Taylor and James Dean that came out in a tie. I even struggled to solve my basic fantasy question for either of them; “Do I want to be like or to be with this person?”
Then I ripped my review to shreds. I also threw out the tulips and roses I had bought to brighten my room for my vacation, because it all felt like I was trying to seduce myself with a movie and a bouquet.
I tried prayers to settle my mind, but I got stuck on feeling sorry for the flowers that I had demolished in a fever of self-righteousness. The angry-crying urge returned, and I wept because my supposedly good self was just the destroyer of all things beautiful. I stopped the hot tears by unbuckling my belt with a couple of furious hip-thrusts that started the whole frantic cycle again.
I thought I had gone haywire. I teetered between contempt for myself and being amazed at my ability to endure multiple days in this desolate netherworld of my own creation.
When I returned to work at Nougat Barn the lopsided structure of hours was better than no structure at all, and after a week I started to write songs again. I felt relieved that I had regained my ability to wrestle some of my energy into something creative and generous instead of burning all of it off with solitary deviance.
I didn’t realize that it would only take one more twist in my life to send my hidden compulsions and my songwriting efforts on a collision course.